The Familial Pilgrimage
by bigbangenthusiast
Summary: On their daughter's first trip to Texas, the Cooper's take a detour before arriving at Sheldon's childhood home.


**A/N: This story is based on a prompt I received from Anon on Tumblr. Let me know what you think!**

Sheldon buckled his infant daughter into the backseat of the rental car. As he adjusted the belt over her car seat, her lower lip quivered.

"It's okay, little one. I know the plane ride was scary, and now we're in another strange vehicle, but I promise you it will all be worth the discomfort. Your Meemaw Mary and Aunt Missy are so excited to see you again, and your Uncle Georgie can't wait to meet you."

"Look at that sweet baby face," Amy murmured. "She's going to be one spoiled little girl with all that attention, or maybe subjecting her to the whole family at once will be over-stimulating."

_The whole family_. The words repeated themselves in his mind as Amy set her phone's GPS for their destination. Following the computerized voice directions, she turned left out of the rental car parking lot.

_The whole family_. "Amy, wait."

"What's wrong?"

"There's something I need to do before we go to my mother's."

"We're already running late. I don't want to hold up dinner, and Missy will want to get the boys to bed before Santa comes."

"They'll understand. We'll need to make a U-turn at the next intersection."

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

Amy pulled into a driveway and cancelled the route entered on her phone. "Do you have the address?"

"No, but I know exactly how to get there. I'll be your navigator."

Each turn took them further away from Mary Cooper's residence. When they reached a deserted gravel road, Amy frowned. "Sheldon, if we're lost, just tell me. The GPS can get us back to town.

"We're not lost. Keep going straight."

They passed fields he hadn't seen in over 20 years. The wooden nameplate on the Winslows' fence still greeted passersby, and the Jamison farm appeared to be stuck in 1994. It was both comforting and disconcerting that nothing had changed, unlike himself who was no longer an awkward teenager but a distinguished scientist and a married man with a child. After driving another 3 miles, Sheldon broke the silence. "Okay, now turn left at the farmhouse on the corner."

Amy obliged. He caught her peeking at him on occasion, the corners of her mouth turned down slightly and her brow wrinkled. He knew that look. She was worried. Telling her where they were going would be the proper thing to do, but saying it out loud would make it more of a reality. One he wasn't sure he was ready to face. Their destination was in view now. With shaky hands, he tugged at his seatbelt. The polyester strap was suddenly like a boa constrictor slowly suffocating him.

"Sheldon, what's wrong?"

He opened his mouth, but all that came out was a strangled squeak. It was foolish to think he could do this. They could still turn around, but after coming this far, if he didn't go through with it now, he never would.

Amy parked in front of a wrought iron gate at the end of the road. Sheldon's tugging intensified as his eyes surveyed their surroundings. The well-manicured lawn, pruned trees, and weeded flowerbeds provided no comfort. They only served as a reminder that their beauty was a cover-up for an otherwise melancholic landscape. With a gentle touch, she rested her hand on his knee. "Is this where you need to be?"

He forced himself to look up at the letters on the archway above the gate - Medford Cemetery. It was a place he had avoided for 27 years, ever since the day his father was laid to rest. Amy was quietly watching him. It was as if she knew he needed to gather his thoughts and work through his feelings. He tried to smile at her, but it felt like more of a grimace. "This is the place."

Sheldon blinked back tears. So much had happened, so many events missed over that period of time. He mourned all the times George Senior couldn't be there for his life's achievements - his wedding, his Nobel win, and now his daughter.

Twisting his head, he peered at her. The rear-facing car seat didn't offer him a view of her face, but he could see her tiny fists balled at her sides. He smiled sadly at the little pink bundle before turning to his wife. "This is harder than I thought, but I need to do this."

"Take all the time you need."

"Thank you." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

The digital clock on the dash alerted him that they were almost due at the dinner table. Earlier, he couldn't wait to devour his mother's cooking. Now the thought of food made his stomach flip. Still, they were expected to join the festivities, and he didn't want to keep them waiting too long.

Sheldon strapped Leah to his chest. The sling's specifications boasted accommodating a maximum weight of 25 pounds. At five months, she weighed in at a mere 15 pounds, but he wasn't taking any chances. With one hand, he supported her weight. His free hand sought out his wife's fingers. Together they crossed the threshold.

On autopilot, he led them past headstones of former residents of the town where he spent his high school years. Even with the new additions, he knew exactly where to go.

"We're here," he announced, gathering them near a towering bur oak tree. The tips of the branches hung over the grave but not so much that the sun couldn't illuminate the area. Mary Cooper chose the plot with the intent that visitors would be shaded from the warm Texas sun yet allow her husband to look down on them from the heavens.

Brushing a twig from the headstone, tears blurred his vision again. Seeing "George Cooper" etched in stone was like a punch to the gut. Years of convincing himself his father was a terrible man was his way of coping. Now that he was a father himself, it was even more evident his father wasn't the monster he made him out to be.

Leah squirmed in her sling. Restless after a long day of traveling, he needed to do this quick, but he also needed to do it right. "Leah, you're going to meet some family members today, but there's one who can't be there."

He swallowed hard, taking a moment to compose himself. "Your Grandpa George died when I was 14 years old, long before you were born. At the time, I never dreamed I'd be a father."

Amy squeezed his hand, giving him the courage to continue. "Now that I am, I realize how much he sacrificed for me and your aunt and uncle. And even though he didn't understand me, he loved me and was proud of my accomplishments."

The little girl reached her arms up, her tiny fingers smearing the tears rolling down his cheeks. Sheldon couldn't help but smile at his precious little girl. The smile faltered knowing she would never meet her grandfather.

"You're doing great."

He tightened his grip on his wife's hand. "I remember the night he took Missy on a father/daughter dinner date at the best restaurant in town. She insisted on dressing as a princess, and rather than having her change into 'normal' clothes, he indulged in her fantasy. Missy spoke fondly of that night for many years. I would have thought Dad would be embarrassed to be seen in public like that. If he was, he didn't let it show."

Leah squealed, her baby smile contagious.

"I think she's asking if you would do the same," Amy chuckled.

"I would prefer her to dress as a superhero, but if she insists on dressing as a princess, I couldn't say no." The smile slipped from his face. "

"What's wrong?"

Sheldon gazed down at the stone and bit his lip. "I was just thinking about the time Dad took me on a road trip to Cape Canaveral to see a space shuttle launch. It wasn't his idea of a good time, but he knew how much I wanted to go. A thunderstorm cancelled the event, so he distracted me by asking questions about lightning."

"The more I hear about your dad, the more I like him."

"I know he would have adored you and Leah."

Sheldon looked into his daughter's blue eyes - his eyes, his father's eyes. George Senior wasn't really gone; his genes lived on through his family. "I know you're too young to understand, but bringing you here was the only way you could meet your grandpa. When you're older, I'll tell you all about him."

Leah babbled. Before long, her baby talk would become coherent words. He'd been inpatient for her to progress to that point, but now he wanted to savor each moment.

The December sky was darkening. With his phone on airplane mode, Sheldon was certain his mother had tried contacting him multiple times and was starting to panic. Before turning away, he handed Amy their child. Crouching in the cool grass, he traced the letters carved into the stone.

"I think you would be proud of the life I've built for myself. I know I am." He heard Amy sniffle and fought the urge to do the same. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to visit you, but I promise I'll be back. Merry Christmas, Dad."


End file.
